The Telling of Tales – Part 2

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Guess who’s back – back again! Sorry about the heaviness in Part 1, it gets a bit heavier in this part as well, but I promise there’s a happy ending! For those who stuck around – thank you for your love and support, your messages meant A LOT to me. And for those who are new, warning – you may cry AND you may want to read Part 1 for some context *cough more tears*! Where was I, right – the best day and the worst day of my life.

The next day I went to the hospital by my house, Moe and I were going to meet with a genetic counsellor – Mrs. M. She called us into her office, and pulled out a chunky binder which explained all the chromosome abnormalities. Baby’s NT (Nuchal Translucency) scan measured over 11mm – THAT was not normal. Our next step was to do a CVS (Chorionic Villus Sampling) test, which they do by taking a sample of the placenta to test genetic diseases or birth defects. A nurse took me to a tiny room to re-do an ultrasound, and then Dr. R inserted a ginormous needle via my belly to extract a piece of my placenta. Moe held my hand, and Dr. R asked “are you crying because this is this painful, or because you’re sad?” – I can assure you it was the latter. The entire weekend Moe and I were on edge, I stayed home because I was scared and I didn’t want anyone to see me pregnant. On Monday our counsellor called me back, she said that baby did not have the easily detected chromosomal abnormalities, she said they are going to do further testing, she said the baby in my belly was a boy. I sank to the floor, a boy?! I thought I was having a girl all along – but Moe and I were expecting a baby boy! Even though I had tears of joy, we couldn’t celebrate yet – we had to wait till all the results came back.

Over the next 2 weeks, I began stepping out, I would often find myself rubbing my belly, people congratulated me, everything felt like it was going to be okay. Just when I thought Dr. R was wrong, I got the call we all were dreading. I rang Moe and he came running home from NYC to take me to the OBGYN, where our genetic counsellor was waiting. Baby had mosaicism. As he was developing, his genetic makeup of 46XY lost the Y, and he became 45X. We took another peek at him on the ultrasound – that was the last time I saw him. There was fluid in his lungs, he wasn’t going to be okay, nothing was going to be okay, he wasn’t going to make it. THIS was the most difficult decision I have ever had to make – at 16 weeks we had to say goodbye to our baby boy. Even though I remember it clear as ever, I don’t want to discuss the details of that day – you wouldn’t want to read about it. Maybe it was hormones, maybe it was just sadness on a whole, but everything made me cry. Two days after my D&E (dilate and evacuate) procedure I started lactating. I was producing milk for my baby that wasn’t there – that’s when I fell down the rabbit hole of depression. I blamed myself for everything. I blamed myself for not being able to carry a healthy baby, I blamed myself even when it wasn’t in my control. I hid from everyone – I skipped events, parties, dinners, I was lost.

Early April 2017 we moved into our 2 bedroom apartment, which lease we had signed at the start of our pregnancy. The spare bedroom remained empty, it was supposed to be a nursery, and I refused for it to be anything else. I needed to fill that emptiness, I wanted a baby. As much as I tried to “relax” (people who are trying to conceive know annoying that word is), I couldn’t. One month passed by, no baby. Second month came around, no baby. By the third month I decided to enjoy life again, to look for happiness in the small things. I was slowly getting back to being my old self. It was a Friday in June, Moe and I had plans to go to the city to meet friends and check out a new restaurant that had opened up in Chelsea (New York). I felt bloated and crappy, and my period hadn’t come, so I took THE test! The second line was so faint but it was there. I was pregnant. This time it was going to be different – THIS time I was going to be positive.

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